The Sheriff's Catch by James Vella-Bardon
Of thrillers and historical fiction
I recently had the pleasure of attending the Maltese book
launch (and book-signing session) of James Vella-Bardon’s The Sheriff’s Catch, the first volume of a projected “historical
thriller” pentalogy. The author himself
spoke about the inspiration for his novel and this led me to consider it from a
new perspective. Here is a revisited and
revised version of my review, originally posted on Goodreads
***
Historical
fiction has seen such a rise in popularity over the past decades, that it's
easy to forget that it is, in fact, a long-established and venerable genre. One
could say that some of the earliest literature (including, say, the Iliad) is "historical", being
based on actual facts which had happened in the past. The genre as we know it
became particularly popular in Europe in the 19th Century, through the works of
such authors as Scott, Balzac and Hugo. The historical novel was often the
vehicle for Romantic ideals, and sometimes helped forge national identities in
young newly-formed states (one thinks of Manzoni's I Promessi Sposi).
What
contemporary writers have at their disposal, in contrast to their predecessors,
is a freedom to mould the genre to their own ends. Thus, I recently enjoyed Amy
Sackville's Painter to the King, a
re- imagining of the life of Velazquez rendered in modernist,
stream-of-consciousness narration. On the other hand, "neo-Victorian"
novels by the likes of Sarah
Waters and Alison Littlewood are
not only set in the 19th century, but also borrow tropes from genres of the
time (including the Gothic and the sensation novel).
With The Sheriff's Catch, Maltese-born and
Australia-based
James Vella-Bardon, adds his name to historical novelists to look out for. His
novel introduces us to our 16th century protagonist, sharpshooter Abel de
Santiago who, after an orphan's upbringing in Malta, ends up joining the
Spanish army and campaigning in the Netherlands. When his supposed friends kill
his young, pregnant wife, ‘Santi’ deserts the army and embarks on a mission of
revenge which leads him through several ordeals, not least a stint as a galley
slave with the Spanish Armada. It is no spoiler to reveal (since it is stated
on the back-cover blurb) that by the conclusion of the book, Santi will arrive in Ireland, at a time when
the country is being terrorised by the marauding English troops - or
"Sassenachs", as the natives refer to them.
 |
| Author James Vella-Bardon |
Vella-Bardon's
book takes us back more than four hundred years, but like the historical novels
of Arturo Perez-Reverte, its models are the epic, swashbuckling 19th Century
classics by authors such as
Dumas. As was often the case with its literary forebears, The Sheriff's Catch was adapted for serialization prior to being
published in book-form, and one can feel it in the thrust of the plot. There
are continuous twists and end-of-chapter cliffhangers, which ensure that the
reader is hooked from one passage of the novel to the next. Indeed, the
constant sense of danger and Santi's reckless, death-wish attitude tend to make the narrative rather
breathless,
although there are passages when the reader is allowed to take a step back and
delve deeper into the protagonist's character. This could be felt particularly
in the final chapters, where the introduction of a female figure
(possibly/hopefully an important character in forthcoming volumes?!) seems to
give a different, yet no less enjoyable perspective to the book.
There
is plenty to admire in this first instalment of the Pentalogy. It is clear that
much research has gone into the novel, evident for instance, in the minute
descriptions of the weapons and paraphernalia of war. Yet, this knowledge is
lightly worn, and Vella-Bardon avoids the common mistake of suspending the flow
to provide us with an encyclopaedic entry on the era portrayed.
The
first-person narration, together with the graphic, and sometimes garish,
evocation of the historical setting (smells and bodily fluids included), help
provide a sense of total immersion into the period without making the reader
feel spoon-fed. The sense of authenticity can also be felt in the dialogue -
just to give an example, the style of the language changes to reflect the
characters' switching from one language to another, with the use of a more
archaic syntax and vocabulary when the characters are speaking Latin. It is not
easy at all to mark a change in code without changing the language of the
narration, but Vella-Bardon manages it nicely.
Until
we meet again, Santi...
Paperback, 336 pages
Published March 15th 2018 by Unbound
***
In his talk at the book-launch James Vella-Bardon
explained that he chose 16th century Europe as the stage for his tale since
this was an exciting century, a time of unprecedented upheaval. It also
gave him the opportunity to pit against each other three very different
cultures.
The novel's hero Santiago was raised in Malta, which was then ruled as a
fiefdom by the Knights Hospitallers, who paid a yearly tribute of a Maltese
falcon to the King of Spain. Most of
us Maltese are immersed in Anglo-centric literature, and because of that we sometimes fail to
appreciate what a great cultural and military power Spain was. Vella-Bardon’s novel is a corrective in this
regard. At the time of the events
portrayed, Spain was living its Siglo de
Oro, a “Golden Century” (actually, longer) which started with the great
voyages of exploration and ended with the death of Pedro Calderon de la Barca
in 1682.
One of the greatest Spanish composers of the period was
Cristobal de Morales (1550-1553). Here’s his Parce Mihi Domine, performed by the
Consort of Melbourne, with piano improvisations by pianist Gemma Turvey. This mixture of “old” and “new” fits Vella-Bardon’s
novel very well.
De Morales is known for his sacred works. The wordlier Santi might have been more used
to sprightlier instrumental dances.
Here’s a ricercada by Diego
Ortiz (1510-1570) a Spanish composer and music theorist in service to the
Spanish viceroy of Naples and later to Philip II of Spain.
And if you want a musical taste of 16th Century battles, here’s Clément Janequin: La bataille. it precedes the Armada by a few decades, but it is a colourful evocation of war. This performance by Jordi Savall and his Hesperion XXI is one of my favourites:
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